The Dorm Guard 17 Chapter Seventeen: A Strange Reques

Defeminise: to divest of feminine qualities or characteristics: to masculinise.

*

I could hear a voice, but it was one I had never heard before. Do you know those moments when you've fallen asleep, but you were still awake, or perhaps acutely aware of what was going on around you? A few days after the incident with the Delinquents, there had been a long day at school, and I had decided to rest my eyes in the lounge room, and slowly my body and mind felt like a heavy blanket was placed over them.

I could scarcely tell if someone was talking in the room, if I was dreaming the small voice or if someone was trying to speak with me.

I started rustling, arching my back against the lounge to stretch as a groan escaped my lips. My eyes shot open, and the voice had disappeared. I blinked away my grogginess as I sat up, pulling my arms above my head and placing my feet on the ground. My eyes felt heavy as I looked around the kitchen and the room, making sure I was in fact in the living room, as I searched for someone talking to me. Mia was kneeled before the coffee table, her back to me, reading a book with the antique radio sitting next to her. When I got up, she looked at me as I searched for someone who may or may not have been talking to me.

"Was someone else here?" I yawned pressing my hands to my face.

Mia shook her head as she leaned over the table and turned a k.n.o.b on the radio, after a moment of static a woman's voice speaking French escaped the speakers, perhaps telling a story, for all I knew she was explaining the profound theory of existence.

I yawned and shook my head, determined to get rid of the heavy feeling weighing my head down, as Estelle and Ava came into the room mid-chat.

They laughed at the sight of me, "My goodness..." Ava stifled, biting down on her knuckles, "Nice hair."

Estelle wasn't as polite. "You look ridiculous!" she laughed plonking next to me and patted down my hair.

"I'd say cute," Ava said sitting across from us.

I was too drowsy to take the off-handed compliment. Estelle continued playing with my hair, "Perhaps. Maybe dreamy lead singer in a boy band," she said kneeling on the lounge to get taller than my head. I felt like I was getting groomed by a monkey as she picked at my hair. "How do boys' hair do this?"

"Do what?" I ran my fingers through my short hair.

"Look effortless s.e.xy," Estelle deflated back to sitting, "It takes two business days to tame this!" She pulled on her longest strands of blonde hair, "Unless you're Mia, then it's naturally bouncy."

In response, Mia flicked her hair, her attention on the radio.

Somewhere, the landline rang, it's incessant chimes echoing throughout the house. "I'll get it," Ava announced standing from the lounge. Mia turned the volume of the radio down and returned to her book. I looked over her shoulder to see beautiful ill.u.s.trations of a man and woman, wearing elegant medieval clothes and crowns, meeting in a flower garden. At the top of the page, bordered by bluebirds, was a paragraph of description, its font too small for me to read but I a.s.sumed it was a storybook.

I slouched back in the lounge as the chiming stopped. I looked at Estelle, "Do you think my hair is s.e.xy?"

She scoffed, "Only after you've woken up." She pinched my cheek, "You're so cute when you're sleepy."

I counter pinched her cheek. "Not as cute as you."

She clicked her tongue, "I'm aware."

"Landon! It's for you!" Ava called.

I furrowed my brows and stood up. Estelle loudly cleared her throat when I tried to leave, placing her feet on the coffee table and stopping me from walking past her. I sighed as I crossed my arms, "Excuse me, your Majesty."

"You're excused." She dropped her legs and allowed me to pa.s.s.

I s.h.i.+mmied past and ran to the doorway, leaning out into the hallway to Ava at the end of the aisle. She was holding the head of an old-fas.h.i.+oned phone, the handle made of gold and covered in branch-like characteristics. She pressed her hand to the mouthpiece and when she saw me held the phone out to me.

"Who is it?" I asked. My parents called on my mobile, and any friends from school usually emailed me or texted.

"You're gonna want to find that out yourself," she informed as I took the phone. She babbled, "Just remember, firm voice, speak when spoken to and even if you think they can't see you, they can see you, so good posture." She poked my stomach, and it straightened my back. "Good luck, Lachlan." She patted me on the back as she pa.s.sed, returning to the lounge room.

"I know you know my name," I called.

She left me to my phone call.

The phone was cold against my ear. "h.e.l.lo?"

"Hi, is this Landon Becks?" the voice sounded deep and dull, nothing more than an emotionless drone.

I gulped, a lump forming in my throat, "Speaking."

"I speak on behalf of the Andrea Romano, Head of the Romano Family," the disembodied voice told me, it had a strange accent, Italian perhaps. "He's in town a few days and wants to discuss something with you."

I rattled my brain for a Romano, getting panicked when my pause stretched for several seconds. The voice spoke again, "You there, kid?"

I jumped, fumbling with the phone as I straightened my back, "Uhh yeah, I'm still here."

"Tomorrow, 4:00 pm at the Opal Park. He wants to talk to you alone," the voice informed, "See you then."

I blinked, "I'm sorry, what-"

The tone dial buzzed as the man hung up. I sighed as I hung up the phone and turned on my heels, all my drowsiness was gone, and I felt exposed like I needed to put on a large jacket and wear thick-lensed sungla.s.ses to hide my face.

When I got back into the kitchen, the girls had moved to the kitchen, Ava sitting on the counter while Estelle rummaged through the fridge. Mia was still reading her book, just on the bench now. Estelle hipped the refrigerator closed, holding a bottle of orange juice, she raised an eyebrow and leered. "That bad huh?"

I wasn't trying to hide my shock as I stared absently at the floor, reaching a hand out to nearby furniture to eventually sit down. "I... I don't know..."

Ava tilted her head. "What happened?"

I bit the inside of my cheek before answering, "I don't... know..." I clicked my tongue in thought, "Do we know a Romano?"

Estelle stopped mid-gulp to answer, "Amada and Amia's family," she informed, "The Romano family is famous for... many questionable things."

"Questionable things?" I asked.

"She's saying they're probably mobsters," Ava blatantly said.

I widened my eyes, "I thought you said they were arms dealers?"

Estelle cleared her throat and nodded, "Officially yes. I have nothing else to comment on their... other possible business endeavours," she took another mouthful of orange juice and continued, "Andrea Romano doesn't answer phones and stuff, he's got goons for that."

"Estelle stop," Ava smiled, "The twins' Father is a very busy guy. I've never heard his voice over the phone."

"Have you ever met in person?" I quizzed slouching.

"Once or twice. Wanted us all together for a dinner or something," Ava informed, "Nice enough guy."

"For a mobster," Estelle spoke in a creepy voice, "He tried to initiate us into the Romano pack, partake in a blood pact that would bind our loyalty to the family forever!" She waved her hands to be spooky.

"Estelle." Despite her objections, Ava chuckled.

The Princess of Pastries started speaking in an awful Italian accent, as she likely quoted, "You are family now, darling. Family means respect. Family means loyalty. Family means we've got each other backs. You look out for us, and we'll look out for you." She dramatically raised her hand in front of her face, showing off her palm, "Because we're family."

I didn't know how to respond to Estelle's mobster impression, so I brushed it off as a smirking Ava asked, "What did he want?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. The voice told me to meet Mr Romano tomorrow afternoon," I s.h.i.+vered at the phone guy's voice, "It wasn't a request, it was an instruction."

"He's the head of a big arms dealing company. He needs to be a.s.sertive," Ava defended.

"And being a mob boss comes with its perks," Estelle added.

"Enough." Ava waved Estelle away. "I'm sure he wants to meet the guy whose job is to take care of his kids. Get a feel for you and such."

"But why now? We're like seven weeks into the term," I threw my arms up.

"Wait until you meet my parents," Estelle cooed, "King Creampuff and Queen Shortcake."

The idea of meeting Estelle's parents made me feel sick. The idea of meeting anyone's parents made me feel sick. And I was starting with Andrea Romano? The Father of these two kids who only weeks ago I barely managed to protect from a kidnapping? A man who doesn't take his phone calls and has men with scary voices arrange his meetings?

"Don't worry about it," Ava said patting my back again, "I'm sure you won't die."

She said that with a broad smile, neither girl in front of me was taking my worry seriously, and Mia was too engulfed in her book to acknowledge either girls' jokes. I forced a smile back and said through loosely clenched teeth, "Thanks, that's comforting."

*

I hadn't been to the local park for fun since I was twelve. I had come here in pa.s.sing on jogs or waited for people outside the park gates, but this had been the first time I had walked in and sat down on one of the park benches.

Opal Park was a large circle of s.p.a.ce gated off by tall metal fencing to detour larger animals that roam around the pine forests, like foxes, the occasional bear, any four-legged beasts bigger than a Labrador. It was an ample open s.p.a.ce with paths crisscrossing into strange swirly patterns to make runs or strolls more exciting and provided a chance to look at every feature the park had to offer.

As I waited, I watched people jog past, too invested in their earphones to take much notice of me and was greeted by some dogs who gave me cautionary sniffs or playful jumps as their owners tugged them along. Off the human-made paths were large patches of gra.s.s where afternoon picnics were spread out, ranging from couples to children to a group of mothers with their babies. My favourite was a dachshund sprinting with all its might across the field to catch a frisbee three times bigger than its head and struggle to waddle back to its enthusiastically beckoning owner.

I checked my watch after a few minutes; 4.03pm.

I bit the inside of my cheek in worry as I scanned the park for... someone.

Who was I waiting for exactly? Was I meeting Andrea Romano? He didn't tell me what to look out for or where to even wait for him, just in Opal Park. Was it racial profiling if I sought out Italian looking people? Or did I need to pay more attention to how someone dressed? Since I only had a voice, did I need to listen to people? But I hadn't heard Mr Romano's voice before.

"Landon Becks?"

My name broke through my frantic thoughts as I looked up to a broad-shouldered man whose shadow cast over my whole body, dressed in expensive running clothes, his s.h.i.+rt black and his shorts a navy blue. Despite his sporty appearance, he wore tinted sungla.s.ses and a different set of earphones to regular joggers.

I gulped and quickly got my feet, "Yes, sir."

I thought I was speaking with Andrea Romano, but the man pressed a finger to his earpiece and murmured something. I brought my shoulders back to match the man, on a conscious level I didn't want to appear too intimidated. After a moment, the man instructed, "Come with me."

His voice, somehow, startled me as my posture became straighter, "Okay."

The man started jogging down the path, and, sheepishly, I followed behind him, keeping up with his pace until we got to the centre of the park where all pathways connected at a pretty fountain roundabout. When we stopped, I was instructed to sit on the edge of the fountain and to wait until Mr Romano arrived.

I had sat there for less than thirty seconds before another voice startled me. "Do you know why it's called Opal Park?"

I felt my heartbeat thrum in my ears as I looked through the fountain, approaching me was a man in a pale grey suit and reflective sungla.s.ses, his grey hair trimmed into a crew cut and as he walked he pulled at his cufflinks fastened by gold coloured b.u.t.tons. I quickly stood up, "Yes. Sir. I grew up here," I informed.

Despite this, he told me to history. "This small town is known for a lot of things, enriching sceneries, lovely lakeside, refres.h.i.+ng forest pines, but the mountains are also a secret treasure trove," he stated, "The ground we're standing on right now was a hub for opal exchange. Quite fascinating."

I gulped and agreed, "It is."

"Andrea Romano." He held his large hand out to me to shake, "You're Landon Becks, correct?"

I nodded and hastily took his hand. "Yes, sir."

He had a very firm grip. "Sorry for being late, but you're much more una.s.suming then we were led to believe.

I frowned, "Una.s.suming?"

"I only had what the twins told me to go off," he informed taking back his hand, "They had tonnes to say about you, but nothing physically descriptive."

"Hopefully it was all good."

He roared in laughter, "Nothing but praises, my boy." Mr Romano gestured down a pathway, "Walk with me, Landon. There's much to discuss."

My mouth suddenly felt very dry as I shuffled down the path, then we walked side by side. "I heard what you did a few days back," Mr Romano stated resting his hands behind his back, "With that group of delinquents." I didn't know how to respond, so I just nodded. "My son, Amada, he's been the recipient of their torment once or twice, so it was nice to hear that someone stood up to them."

At the memory of the confrontation, the back of my leg partially seized up. "Do they know about his... uhh... cross-dressing?" I asked.

Romano sighed, sounding irritated. "From what I gather, yes. They've been remarkably civil about that aspect of him. I'll give them that," he informed, "My son is what I was hoping to discuss with you today, Landon."

My teeth clamped down on the inside of my cheek, pocketing my hands as we walked along. "Yeah?"

He nodded, "As I said before, both my children have nothing but praise for you, seem to look up to you because of your dedication to your job and your a.s.sistance with certain problems recently." The second half of his sentence was said slowly, almost with a sinister tone that sent an immobilising s.h.i.+ver down my back, luckily, he had stopped walking to face me, so it went unnoticed. "I never did thank you for that, by the way. Preventing the kidnapping of my son and daughter, I imagine it would be rattling."

I dismissed the worry. "I'm just glad I could prevent it, even if did get a little out of control." I rubbed my head nervously, "It was the least I could do."

"Don't be so humble, my boy," he grasped my shoulders, "Accept a compliment of bravery when it peeks its head. Humbleness isn't always charming." He spoke with a gleam in his eye as if amused by my dismissive nature of the whole thing.

My dismissal wasn't to come off as humble or even appear arrogant, but more so I don't go into a panic attack. I knew if I dwelled too much on the details of that day, Amia fainting, Amada almost getting carried to the car, almost getting knocked out, I would freak myself out. The sheer memory of it along formed a lump in my throat.

I took a shaky breath, "I'll keep that in mind, sir." I cleared my throat, hoping to swallow the lump.

"I was hoping to get your services in a different matter, a bit more personal." He straightened the bends in his jacket and stood there with a forced sense of pride as if needing to overcompensate for what he was going to say next. "I'm sure you're aware Amada has a few... issues."

I blinked, "I think issues might be a little harsh, Mr Romano."

"Perhaps to you, but not to me." His voice got deeper, serious sounding. "Amada hasn't always had a male role model growing up. I've tried my best, but if anything, he distances himself from me when I'm not working. No connection with my son." He looked away from me when he admitted that, the slightest tinge of sadness coating his voice, as he turned and started walking. "When my dearest Georgia pa.s.sed, rest her soul," he made the sign of the cross, "was when the issues started. Amada started relying more heavily on his sister, at first little things like sharing a bed at night, playing with some of her dolls, hanging out with other girls rather than boys his age."

I tried my best not to judge Mr Romano's old-fas.h.i.+oned thinking, as he sounded genuinely concerned about Amada, but the more he spoke, the more I realised he hadn't addressed Amia by name. (PERHAPS A LITTLE TOO ON THE NOSE)

"Then he started wearing her clothes, copying her style, the dresses, the skirts, blouses, buckled shoes and the works," he pinched the bridge of his nose, "Soon I could no longer tell them apart. Which I understand is normal in twins at times, but they're fifteen. There is a time and age for such behaviour, and well into your teens is not that time."

I clicked my tongue in thought. "Have you considered taking Amada to a professional if you're worried about him?"

Mr Romano smiled. "I can tell my opinion irks you, my boy, but I don't want to embarra.s.s him or the family name by calling some psychologist to tell me what he's doing is nothing but some elaborate hocus-pocus about grief," he stated, "It's been seven years. I've put up with his cross-dressing fanatics long enough. Sooner or later, things are going to change, and people are going to notice. I will not have Amada cast shame onto his own family!" His voice didn't get louder, but there was a weight to it, silent anger that raised my heartbeat. In the next moment though, his tone had calmed as he meticulously straightened features of his clothes, "Amada is the next generation of the Romano business, I need to find a solution so that the community doesn't see him as a joke when the time comes."

He turned to face me and finally got the heart of what he wanted to talk to me about, "You are the first male influence Amada has shown genuine interest in, Landon. I'm willing to pay you a large sum if you can de-feminise my son."

I was taken aback by his request. "'De-feminise?'"

He dipped his head. "I'm running out of options here, my boy. The next step is to force him to a correctional camp," he informed, "I know my son. He is far too fragile for that to be effective right now."

I rolled my shoulders as I tried desperately to find something else to look at other than him. Unsure, I asked, "Well... what would you have me do?"

In the weeks I had been with Amada, he hadn't shown much interest in anything I did. I recalled the time Amia tried to get him to pa.s.s a basketball back and forth; his apprehension was borderline childish.

Mr Romano folded his arms, "We've heard some wonderful things about you. You're a sporty fellow, history of soccer, champions.h.i.+p cycling, athletics, karate and the works. And I've checked into your Mother and Father's work. Travelling enriches the soul I find, and something tells me you are a rather enlightened individual. I'm sure my son would be in good hands with you."

I didn't know what I was expecting coming into this conversation, but it indeed wasn't a request for me to change Amada. I couldn't hide my shock and confusion naturally, so I tried to rub it away, but my eyes remained full circles as I stared at the ground. "Wow, sir... That's a huge ask."

Mr Romano nodded in agreement. "I'm aware. What I'm asking of you is a big project, but I'm coming to the end of my rope with him, Landon. I know how the world works, my boy, so I can appeal to your materialistic side. I'm given to understand your in a tight spot financially." As if to make his point, he pulled out his wallet, showing off a one-hundred-dollar bill, and by the size of his wallet I could tell it wasn't the only one in there. "I'm willing to pay you for your services." He held the money out to me. "Help me fix my son, and you will get a handsome reward."

I slowly took the money from Mr Romano, examining it as if it were real. My family had had many hards.h.i.+ps over the years regarding cash. I felt awful for considering the man's deal, but money is money.

"What about Amia?" I tried, the grip on the bill tightening as I tried to find a way around this. "Why not just ask her to do something? She seems more the capable."

Mr Romano laughed. "My darling of a daughter is too feisty for her own good. She won't let anyone who could change him go near him! She doesn't see the issue at hand, my boy. And due to her position, she never will." He took a step closer to me, perhaps noticing my accidental money-craving nature when I brought the bill closer to my chest. "I want Amada to run the business alongside me one day, and I need a son to pa.s.s it on to," he held me by the shoulders again, trapping me in his icy, sungla.s.s reflective stare, "I have one son, and one daughter, not two daughters."

That statement lingered between us for a painfully long time, until he beamed me a smile, hit my shoulder with a sense of comradery before walking past me, calling out, "You make it happen, Landon, and I'll make it worth your while." With that, Mr Romano left me standing in the middle of the footpath. Moments later he was surrounded by athletically dressed men who had been stretching and jogging in the area.

I looked down at the money left with me, running my fingers over the rough bill as I looked from him to the money. Defeminise Amada? Essentially change him? He claimed to know his son, but was this something I could accomplish?

Despite my worries, I folded the money and pocketed it, kicking myself as I left Opal Park.